I've lived in the Philippines for the past 28 years and if there is one image that stands out it has to be this one—religion and basketball, almost one in the same.
Ahhh, the smell of freshly cut hair with a dose of carabao sweat lingering in the background. All this place needed was a bottle of Old Spice or Aqua Velva and all would be sweet. There's nothing like having ones hair cut or a shave in the boondocks. Where manly men go and men who are not afraid to be in the company of other men. A place where 50 pesos goes a long, long way. I love old school barbershops and the men who work there. I remember once getting a shave. The guy must have thought I was one tough hombre. No water, no shaving cream, just a straight razor and a smile. I winced, a bead of sweat rolled down my face that acted as my beard lubricant. The killer though, at the end, was he brought out his trusted jar of Vick's Vapor Rub and massaged my face into a frenzy, I cried like a baby. Film: Kodachrome 64 Olympus OM-1.